


Flight

by Talan (soracia)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien Culture, Gen, One Shot, Outtakes, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-05
Updated: 2003-10-05
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soracia/pseuds/Talan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>How do you escape, from a life that is trapped and barren?</i> They were not natural fighters, but they had the heart and the spirit. They were not beaten, nor were they broken by the life fate had handed them...they could fly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flight

**Author's Note:**

> This short scene is part of, or perhaps just based on a very long story I'm writing. I'm not sure yet if I'm going to include it in the actual narrative or not, but it came out rather cool and pretty much stands alone so I decided to post it. It does take place more or less in the middle of the story though, so apologies if it's a little confusing. I may post more eventually if anyone wants to see more of it, but for now this is all there is. Kind of vaguely set in the Star Wars universe, though I will likely end up making it entirely original as I don't plan on using any official characters or locations.

Two people stood on a ledge overlooking the vast lake, their figures small, barely visible against the giant cliff face. She wanted to show him her world, through his own eyes this time, rather than the secondhand experience of someone else's memory.

He looked around avidly, drinking it in; relishing the odd sensation of returning, coming home as it were, to a place he had never been. Everything he saw was new; he had never set foot on this world before, or any world quite like it. Still, it was all so familiar—disturbingly so, and yet comforting at the same time.

The waters of the lake were a deep dark blue, and they looked icy cold, ruffled with white where the wind caught them, and foaming where they struck the jagged base of the cliff. The sky, strewn faintly with wisps of cloud, was a pale shade of blue. The air was crisp and cool, and smelled of grey and blue sea and rain. As far as the eye could see the lake stretched out before him, and on either side the rocky grey wall of the cliffside curved away as it embraced the water. He had not yet seen it, but he knew that beyond the sprawling network of caverns behind him lay a great deep valley, nearly hidden by the surrounding rock. There in the valley was the only green that existed here, like the the hidden heart of this world, safeguarded by miles of towering rock on every side. That richly forested valley, and other smaller ones like it, were as impressive in their own way as this vastness spread out before him, all the more beautiful for the contrast.

"You are right, it is amazing, _talisan_ ," he commented to the girl beside him. He sounded as if he were agreeing to an unspoken statement, though nothing had been said since they left the city's main cavern some while ago. His tone was respectful, but his eyes held a mischievous glint.

She looked up quickly at the title. Her green eyes widened a little with hurt at the sudden formality, then lit with wry humor as she saw he was teasing.

"Eah. As I said to you, _terasan_ , always."

He smiled slightly at her use of his own title, although he was not sure that she did it purposely. He was never sure with her, whether she thought of him by name, or only as the one whom that title represented. It was, after all, the only reason he was on her world to begin with. He had been teasing, knowing that she did not like to stand on ceremony, especially with him; but he doubted that she would tease back. It was not her way. She did look like a princess now, though, wearing a flowing white dress rather than her usual jumpsuit and flight jacket. A memory that was not his told him that it was the traditional clothing worn by a woman who held the position of High Ruler.

"And see, there!" A soft exclamation broke into his musing. "The _hrey-terasne_ are out. I love to watch them, though I had rather be one of them." She pointed, one long slender finger directing his attention to the sky above, and her face fairly glowed with anticipation. Moving forward to the edge of the ledge, she dropped to one knee, leaning out as if to see better, though the wide spaces surrounding them made this infinitesimal move rather pointless. He eyed her precarious position warily for a moment, but she seemed entirely unconcerned, her slender figure poised as if to take flight on the edge of the sheer drop beneath them. Shaking off his bemusement, he followed her gaze to the sky.

High overhead in the clear brightness small shapes soared, then twisted in an elegant dive. They might have been birds, but as they fell, it became apparent that they were much too large. No, they were indeed _hrey-terasne_ , 'air riders' or small fighter ships, piloted with obvious delight and skill. It was a sport, more than anything, a competition, a pastime, and also an art. Like small dragons they rode the winds, sunlight glinting off their metal and transparisteel surfaces, flashing like distant gouts of flame.

Several of the craft came in low out over the surface of the lake, close enough to kick up waves with their passage. Nearer them, a few of the riders moved in the complicated patterns of a mock battle, dancing in the air as they feinted and passed one another almost too close for comfort. They veered away and swooped out into free spaces high over the water, drawing seemingly random twisting designs in the air. It was breathtakingly beautiful, but the Rider was puzzled at such a talent from this seemingly earthbound race. He understood their other specialties, being skilled stone and metalworkers; craftsmanship of that nature he would have expected from an underground people, but this... "Why do you do it?" he asked at last.

She knew what he meant, but she remained silent for a moment as a shadow crossed her face. Instead of answering, she asked a question of her own. "What do you do," she replied slowly, "when you make your home in barren caverns, when you live deep in the shadows? When the very existence of yourself and your world hangs in the balance, but you can only hide yourself in layers and layers of stone? For centuries we have lived thus, waiting for a hope that might never come. We fight just to hold our own in what we know, eventually, is a losing battle. Such a life wears on the spirit, makes you feel weary and helpless, hopeless. Trapped. You can't live that way, not for long. How do you escape?"

"You fly," he answered, understanding now. He nodded, feeling his own heart lift as he watched the tiny ships sweep through the sky, as if they carried him with them in some intangible fashion. For the first time, something like hope woke in his chest with a tiny flame, something fragile yet irresistible. Maybe...maybe yet they could save this world. Maybe there was a reason he was the one they called the Rider. Maybe there was a way. They were not natural fighters, these people, but they had the heart and the spirit. They were not beaten, nor were they broken by the life fate had handed them. They could fly.

Her quiet voice broke the silence once more. "Now do you see what you mean to us, _terasan?_ " Her finger lifted again to gesture at the sky, her eyes again alight with fierce intensity, willing him to understand. "Like that. You give us hope. Like they do."

 _How do you escape?_ The question echoed in his head as he watched the distant fliers, now climbing again, almost out of sight in the bright sky.

 _You fly._


End file.
